I told you guys I’d keep you updated, so I’m fulfilling that promise with this weekly update thing until I have a new gig. (Dear God, please let this be a short lived series).  Anyway. Week one kinda felt like when you go on one of those cleanse diets like the Whole 30 and you did it for your health and you’re super stoked for positive change, but first your body has to go through this disgusting detox period. It’s been like that. I know that not everyone does health-crazed eating things, but I do, because I’m a masochist and I like pain and brussel sprouts.

This time, instead of having to eat kale when I want chocolate, I had to put up with a psychological detox. Oh, joy. It’s hard to admit that you’re not into a thing that the rest of society thinks is an awesome idea. It’s rough to be like, “Yea, I could have a 401K later, but I’d rather have my sanity now.” And to say any sort of stuff like this and not feel like an idiot takes a boat load of confidence. #fakeittilyoumakeit

I think I am half way successful at that sort of stuff, and there definitely has not been a day where I have regretted my choice. I am loads happier right now and my cravings for people pleasing are dwindling down to nothing. But this detox process is still hard and so much of it isn’t even about still wanting to continue previous behaviors, but has to do with that build up of gunk in your system. Only psychological gunk is a hell of a lot sadder to look at than physical gunk.  My deepest apologies for that image.

This week has contained a lot of crying. Like Alice in Wonderland-drowning-everything-fucking-crying. I’ve been crying at nothing. I’ve been crying at tiny little things. I’ve been crying because I touched a pole. I’ve been crying because my teacher made me do splits. I cried at rehearsal last Friday (I’m a real performer again, yay!!!!!!). And to make things worse, I’ve been beating myself up about all the crying, but really, it’s just gunk that needs to get out of my system so that I can move the fuck on. And you know what? As this week has progressed, I have become okay with the crying. I am now of the opinion that everyone should cry more. It will make you a nicer, more humble person, I promise.

When I have not been crying, I’ve been regaining my appetite. Yes, diet started out as my framing device for this piece and now it’s in here for real too. As I mentioned in my post about quitting, I essentially stopped eating because I was so stressed out. Now I have the lovely task of reintroducing my body to eating the amount that it should be. Since I’m an athlete, I typically eat a lot of food. Like six meals a day. So food. Much eat. When I quit, I was barely eating a meal and a half a day, while still trying to pole dance. HA HA HA. I am slowly but surely making my way back to my normal, food-vacuum-like self.

But it’s hard. My body doesn’t want to eat at normal times. Solid food sounds terrible sometimes, and other times only veggies sound good. Or I’m getting a craving for like One Thing and that’s all I eat for 24 hours. Liquids are happening though. (Liquids= Water+Coffee+Liquor). Baby steps. I’ll get there.

Other than those two mainstays– Crying and Food– I have treated this first week like a mini-vacation where I get to do all the art that I’ve been meaning to. I wrote a ton. I danced quite a bit, and I spent a bunch of time in coffee shops with artists who I have missed. All that being said, I do check all of the standard job sites daily. I think I still need some more time to decompress and really figure out which rabbit hole I want to fall down next. I’d rather not rush the White Rabbit. He’ll find me when he’s supposed to.

So, yea. Week one has been an odd cocktail of tears, joy, and productivity. The detox stage and closing a chapter on any part of life is rough. Getting rid of shit you don’t need to be carrying anymore is taxing and takes a lot of conscious effort, but you feel loads better after it’s done. Week two will most certainly contain more of the good, the bad, and the ugly. And I think after this kind of detox, my next Whole 30 is gonna be a breeze.

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